


Freedom of Speech

by theriseofswolo



Category: The Report (2019)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Breeding, Come as Lube, Consensual Somnophilia, Established Relationship, F/M, Feminine Pronouns used for Reader, Hand & Finger Kink, Praise Kink, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25564681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theriseofswolo/pseuds/theriseofswolo
Summary: Dan comes home from a very, VERY long day at work and needs some relief.
Relationships: Daniel Jones (The Report)/Reader, Daniel Jones (The Report)/You
Comments: 38
Kudos: 152





	Freedom of Speech

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I'm an anarcho-communist so I don't really know nor care very much about the intricacies of the United States government so I didn't try. I hope it's still at least a little believable. S/O to Jane, Jessa and the ppl on Twitter for making me do this. I think of this fic less as a work of my own but as a work of the collective effort of all you horny bitches. Thank you all <3
> 
> @ the actual real-life Daniel Jones, if you are somehow reading this I am very, very sorry.
> 
> Also this is low key terrible but what can ya do.

Daniel Jones wasn’t an angry man. He was liked by his past classmates and tolerated by what few coworkers that remained. He had no particular vices, paid his taxes on time, worked hard, rarely lied.

The ideal American citizen, really.

Daniel Jones was _not_ an angry man. 

So what if he left the office (if you could call it that) with a bit more weight to his steps, so what if he was a little short with security today or slammed the door of his car closed with more force than probably necessary? That didn’t mean he was angry. Certainly not.

He gripped the wheel till his knuckles turned white, grinding his teeth.

All these senators and agents, directors and lawyers, pseudo-scientists.

And no one did anything.

Not one. 

“Fuckers,” he muttered under his breath.

He needed to work this off.

The two of you lived in a cute little apartment off Pennsylvania Avenue, expensive but with your combined incomes and humble lifestyle, it was fairly easy to keep on top of rent and necessities.

Luckily there was a space for him to park next to the building or else he just might have just run that prick downstairs’ Audi into the next tree.

It was hot tonight but he supposed the one thing he would forgive tonight was the weather.

And you.

Maybe.

It was, as expected, dark through the whole place, but Dan was practiced enough to navigate just fine until his eyesight adjusted. All he needed to do was go towards the green light.

“Like Gatsby and Daisy,” you had said, “So you can always find your way back to me.”

Dan had groaned about how he hated The Great Gatsby in high school and how he would _not_ change his mind on the subject, mouth full of popcorn as you watched some historical drama, but still, he found the gesture to be incredibly touching.

Or it would have been if the green light itself wasn’t coming from that weird...frog...elf...thing, plugged into the bedroom wall.

Yoba? From Star Trek? He shook his head, it didn’t matter.

He had dropped his bag onto the counter, barely bothering to toss his suit jacket onto a chair, before resting his forearms on either side of the bedroom doorway’s frame as he gazed on your sleeping form, cocking his hips as his eyes finally adjusted to allow him a good look at you.

Your hair was up, probably to stop the strands from sticking to your neck, but so was your shirt. Enough to show a sliver of the underside of your breasts. 

The comforter was rucked up too, laying across your upper chest in an effort to attain the comforting weight without the additional heat. 

It also, Dan quickly noticed, exposed the fact that you weren’t wearing anything else. At all.

He licked his lips, his eyes fixated on the cleft between your legs, shaved bare and leaving no fold hidden from his sight.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he moaned to himself, probably louder than he should have but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. You were a heavy sleeper anyway. 

He began his approach, pressing a knee to the mattress before climbing above you. His shoes were still on but you said you found it hot, like he just couldn’t wait a moment longer before taking her.

He really couldn’t wait a moment most of the time. He could barely remember his own name much less to take off his shoes with the way his cock was pressing against the seam of his trousers.

It was about time the bedding was washed, anyway. 

Your mouth was slightly parted in your sleep, your breath coming in soft puffs from your flushed lips.

 _'Maybe...?'_ He ran the tips of his fingers over your lips, absently thinking of your cute mouth and the way you always drool around his cock, getting yourself all messy just for him.

He’d done it this way before, and he was very tempted, especially with the way your little tongue prodded and curled around his digits, but no. With the way he was feeling he might end up bruising your jaw or worse, and he couldn’t stand the thought of blemishing your face even if it _would_ go away eventually.

He ducked his head down for a soft kiss, removing his fingers, and shuffling back to turn you around onto your stomach, palming and squeezing your ass, made small by his enormous hands.

He sniffed, rolling up his sleeves as he rutted against you, getting you used to the movement, then unbuckling his belt, freeing his leaking member.

He spread your legs, sliding his fingers between and gathering up your excess.

“ _Good_ fucking girl,” without ceremony he pushed himself in, making sure to stretch you nice and good until his balls met your mound.

He thrusted experimentally, getting used to the motion and the shape, before going all in, “Such a good girl, getting all pretty and soaked. Getting ready just for me, huh?”

You couldn’t answer, of course, but he suspected you heard his words in whatever dreamland you had gone off to as your cute cunt clenched around him in response.

“So good for me, baby,” he increased the pace. 

Dan always went fast and hard when you were like this, all soft and pliant and sweet, waiting like a present just for him almost every night, he just couldn’t help it. He held your hips in a bruising grip, relishing both in the plush flesh and the amount of give under his fingers.

Even he, however, had to admit he was probably going rougher than he ought to. The slap of his balls against your clit and the slicking sounds of your pussy were loud enough to fill the room and bounce off the walls. 

Hopefully, it was late enough that the neighbors wouldn’t bother complaining about the noise. 

With each thrust the anger seeped back in, clouding his mind and invigorating his body. A hand left your hip to pin you to the pillow by your neck, hard enough to keep you from moving but gentle enough to not restrict your breathing, now coming harder and punctuated with little gasps.

“Stupid motherfuckers,” He loosened his tie and lifted his shirt, taking it off over his head rather than unbuttoning it, just to feel and hear your skin smack against his own.

“Incompetent,” slap, “Fucking!” slap, “FUCKERS!” SLAP.

“Nnnhuh?” the preceding thrust had caught your spine at a funny angle, just enough of a twinge of pain to wake you, groggy and bleary-eyed, from your slumber, “Dahnn?” 

“Shh, baby,” he shifted, slowing, and steadily lifted his hand to your face, hooking two fingers into your mouth, “I just need to come, that’s all, I need to work this anger out on your pretty little pussy ‘kay?”

You nod, sucking at his fingers, “that’s right, baby, I need you to be quiet for me, alright? Can you do that for me?” You nod again, his pace unrelenting throughout, “good girl, you’re always such a good girl for me.” 

He leaned over, practically laying atop of you as he increased the pace again, hard enough to practically feel his pelvis against your own. You moaned around his digits, the sensation against your clit simultaneously too much and not enough, your pussy pulsing, on the precipice of coming, and his large body squeezes over you, locking your body against him during his final thrusts.

He comes with a guttural sound followed by a soft moan, still feeling the flutter of you against his gradually softening cock.

The sensation of his cum inside you, unobstructed and voluminous, was enough to make you feel drunk.

“Ah, fuck,” he says and you lightly giggle as he pulls out, nearly collapsing beside you before he makes sure to put his hand to you, pushing any escaping cum back in.

Using his shoulders, Dan shifted so that his face was more level with your own. His dark hair was in adorable disarray, his freckled face pebbled with sweat as he leaned in to kiss you, sloppily and gentle.

“Sweet girl,” he gave you a wet kiss on your cheek as he slipped one, two fingers inside you, pushing the come further in.

“Ah,” you whimper, “please..”

“My sweet girl needs my cum in her huh? You’ve had to wait all day and night, my poor baby, poor, poor thing,” you kissed his jaw as he continued, pressing his thumb to your clit, working you gently, "I'm sorry, baby."

It doesn’t take long for you to come, already worked up from before, the eroticism of what he was doing before, what he was doing now, not wasting a drop. It was strong, intense, legs shaking and burrowing your face into his pale chest as he kept up his relentless ministrations.

He made you come one more time, just to make sure his spend was well and good inside you, of course, before finally succumbing to sleep, using the last of his energy to have you suck any remainder from his fingers. 

You sit up to properly remove his trousers, shoes, and dress socks, throwing them to the floor for you to fold the following morning or put in the wash. You had already laid out his work clothes for the next morning, and after retrieving his badge and bag to place beside them you practically throw yourself into his chest, Dan unconsciously tucking you under his chin, arms spread to keep cool even so. 

He looked a little weird in the green light, like a character from a hammer horror or just some general old-fashioned sci-fi movie, but he was still so effortlessly handsome. With a hand twirling about his sparse chest hair you finally fall asleep.

You hope it won't always be like this.

It isn't. 

**Author's Note:**

> imma keep it real, I couldn't come up with a name so I just made it reader (or I guess simply an unnamed original female character in second person?? who knows). Hope yall liked it 🙈 thanks, rats.


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